Driven by honour and obligation
by LadyMorgaineLeFay
Summary: Daryun is the most loyal and the greatest warrior of Pars. His promise to protect the crown-prince will get him into serious trouble one way or the other (mostly through fighting). Read about those troubles here. :)


****missing scenes from episode 1x24/25 after the battle between Daryun and silvermask****

**############################################################################################**

Just like that the silvermask disappeared within the black dust which momentarily dissolved into thin air and only the red stains on the grass were proof of the fight that had just taken place in the insolated yard. For a heartbeat or two Daryun just listened, his heavy gaze lifted in the direction where his opponent had stood and only as he was certain that the latter wasn't to suddenly reappear again, he allowed himself to relax his tense muscles. He breathed out, trying not to stir too much...

..._No_...

He tried to lift his heavy head again but felt fatigue spreading through his body and noticed that it became harder to control his tired limbs.

_He couldn't rest. Not yet. The crown prince needed him to fight, to get up, to protect him. His fight was not over yet. He could rest when the fight was over._

"...highness" the title of his young master escaped his lips with a pained grunt and he clenched his fist in the grass as he tried to lift himself up, cursing slightly as he felt the movement causing more blood to drip from the wound in his side.

_He had to get up! He had to protect the_...A pained grunt escaped him suddenly, his arms gave out under him and he collapsed onto the grass again, the surprise in his voice being replaced with a hissing sound that came out of his clenched teeth as he tried to breath through the pain that seemed to overtake his body. Helpless he pried open his eyes once again but found that he even had difficulties focusing on the sword next to him.

_Maybe he could rest just for a few minutes, gain some strength and then get up to find the prince._ His eyes slowly slipped shut and he felt the tiredness that he had tried to fight creep into his mind and wrap it into numb light contentness.

_Just a few minutes_. He thought. Then he let the darkness take him...

...

A strange noise crept near, broke through the blanket of numbness that had previously covered his mind and kept pounding in his ears. It shortly reminded him of swords clashing and he wondered whether it was the young prince practising his fighting techniques. The prince! In less than a heatbeat he had his eyes open!

..._No!_

He cursed furiously at himself and was rewarded with a shot of pain in his wounded side when he moved to get up.

_How long had he been out? How foulish of him to allow himself to rest. Now he had let the prince fend for himself for the gods know how long._

Somehow he found the strength to push himself upright, resting on his two arms, trying hard to concentrate on his breathing. He didn't even attempt to stand up as his arms were already shaking as it were and at of this moment, he feared that he would pass out if he tried to push his body more. He allowed himself a short moment to rest in this position and looked around, trying to properly make sense of his blurred surroundings. With a lot of effort he managed to make out the round shape of something he guessed was a well which was a bit further away and was standing just across the exit. He figured as much noticing a bright light shining from across the well and into the silent yard.

_If he could make it to the well, he could use it to shift himself into a more practical position, refresh and then make the way to the exit and to the side of the prince. _

With a pained cry, muffled by the lips he had pressed together in determination, he began to move, though it might have been more like crawling, towards the shape that threatened to blur in front of his eyes with every movement. He felt sweat forming on his forehead, driping down the sides of his head and soaking his hair. A single drop found its way down his forehead and into his eye and he had to stop to blink but also because his arms threatened to give out under him yet again. He grunted in annoyance, making another strenous move forward and tried to ignore the increasing weight of his armor that slowly constricted his ability to breathe as well as the fact that the well was only unoticably nearer. He had at least reached the end of the grass now and pulled himself up onto the hard stone pavement. Unfortunately, this effort tore at his battered side and he clasped it with one hand, desperately trying to stop the pain and blood that was still seeping out of the wound. He groaned quietly and shook his head in an attempt to dispel the numbing fog that tried to nest in his mind and pull im under again. He dared a look down his body where his hand still clutched his side and noticed the stains of blood soaking his armor and hand crimson red.

_He had to get out of this yard. He thought. Not only for the prince's sake but his own as well. He was running out of time._

With new found determination he pulled his sword, which he had dragged all the way with him in his hand, in front of him and thrusted it into the ground before him wih a strained grunt. Shakingly, he pulled himself upright using the sword for support and managed to stand a few seconds before swaying dangerously from exertion. He was sweating profusely now and his stomach managed to turn around that acrobaticaly that a wave of nauseau hit him that almost made him spill his gut out on the cold stone pavement. He closed his eyes and tried to stabalize his breathing that ran through his shaking body. From near a few voices found their way to his ear, having sepparated from the rest of the still ungoing battle noises and he immediatly, his body tensed, awaiting an unpredictable encounter. He lifted his head and made out three soldiers, enemies from the looks of it that had dared to entry the yard probably in curiosity and were intensely examining him with their gaze, as if trying to decide whether he was an easy prey. He gripped his sword tighter in his bloody hand, trying to keep his body from swaying and kept his eyes on the three strangers as they slowly approached, determined not to go down without a fight. As they were near enough to lock eyes, he noticed their expression changing from a smug grin to terror right away.

"It's Daryun, one of the Marzbans of Arslan!" One of them shouted, retreating in steps while saying that.

"What? But he is supposed to be one of Pars' fiercest fighters! What is he doing here?" Another asked, slightly frowning in worry and mistrust.

"Last I heard he was fighting prince Hilmes!" The third one frantically looked around, as if searching for something, "Where is the prince? Do you think he killed him?"

Daryun didn't dare to look away, but only gripped his sword even tighter, bearing a dark expression on his face that he knew was due to his attempt to focus on standing and was probably not a trustworthy, but scary look. He pressed his teeth together and grinned slightly as he realized that the soliders seemingly got more anxious.

"Well, either way he is not here" The first one said and turned his head to look towards the exit, "and I suggest we get out of here too. Can't do nothing here."

"I agree. We can do Yaldabaoth's work elsewere more effectively" The second one nodded eargerly. The three of them then shared one look and immediatly rushed out of the yard, leaving the wounded warrior alone with himself again.

But Daryun's body left him no time to rejoice. As soon as the danger was gone, his knees buckled and he was on the ground again, head leaning against the cold metal of his sword and breathing heavily.

"Damn" he cursed and looked up towards the well.

_It was not that far. He could make it. _

Gathering all his remaining strength he leaned all his weight on his sword again, pulling himself up into a standing position and fighting the wave of dizziness that overcame him at the same time.

_He had no other choice than to make it._

With a cry in which his anger, pain and desperation resonated, he took a step forward and then another one, pulling to sword with him and using it for support. He ignored the sweat that continously ran into his eyes and across his face now and kept his gaze locked on his goal. Nethertheless, he felt the weight of his armor pushing him down with every step he took and soon he was leaning on his sword so hard that he feared for a moment that it might break under the pressure. His heart was racing and he strechted his neck, trying to loosen the weight around his neck in order to be able to breath properly again. Trying not to pass out, he closed his eyes.

_Just a few more steps_. He told himself. _That's not that far._

He opened his eyes again and proceeded forward, ignoring that his surroundings increased to blur in front of his eyes. He swayed, trying to catch himself on the sword but his sweaty hand slipped from the hilt.

_Just a few more steps._

_A few more..._

He stumbled and his legs finally decided they couldn't carry his weight anymore and he fell, to weak to try to break the fall. Before he knew it, something hard hit him in his side, exactely where his wound was and he cried out and clutched the battered spot, feeling a fresh stream of blood trickling from his mouth. He collasped onto the thing that had hit him and only now he realized that it was the wall of the well which he had finally reached. He reached his shaking hand into the water with the intent of directing it to his mouth to drink but was too weak to move it back up again. He felt the exhaustion creep into his mind again, numbing the pain in his side which he gratefully accepted just for a moment. His head fell down onto his chest and even if he had the will to fight it, he knew he didn't have the strenght to anymore.

_I'm sorry, highness_. Daryun could made out as a last coherent thought in his mind. Then he let the weight carry him under.

...

...

...

He felt like waking up from a feverish dream. It was an uneasy feeling that kept bugging him in his subconsciousness, picking him up, spinning him around and repeating it over and over. A stinging pain coming from his side seemed to burn his whole body and tried to drag him under every time he got nearer to the surface. The weight on his shoulders was crushing him, he felt as if he couldn't breathe. Panic crept in his mind but was immediatly numbed by the tiredness in his veins.

Suddenly everything was quite and he couldn't crasp a thought because there were none. The darkness tried to drag him under again but a voice stabbed its way through and the familiar feeling that overcame him caused his mind to shake of some of the restraints the numbness was keeping him in. The voice sounded again, nearer this time, more familar and he felt his body stir.

"Daryun!", the voice sounded again, he could make out that it was calling him and suddenly the silence gave away to all sorts of sounds, the splashing of water and the distant chatter of people, that overrun him all at the same time and he groaned quietly.

"Daryun!" the voice exclaimed and suddenly he knew who it was. He wanted to respond and managed to lift his head in the direction the voice was coming from and even opened his eyes a little, seeing a little white haired figure standing at the entrance to the yard and running towards him. "Your...highness", he managed to get out, still fighting not to pass out.

"Daryun!", the prince's expression immediatly changed from relieved to worried and the boy rushed to his side. Ignoring all the pain and stiffness he felt, Daryun shifted himself up and cautioulsy returned the hug the prince embraced him in. The sudden movement jagged at his wound and he pressed his eyes shut, silently bearing the pain. "Are you allright?", the worry in the voice of the prince touched him deeply and he was immediatly ashamed of causing him such troubling thought.

"Your...highness", he said and managed to lift his head towards the prince, "I am ...unworthy as I ...failed to defeat the silvermask."

"It matters not." The prince exclaimed and looked at his wounded warrior with great sympathy, "As long as you are safe that is all I care about."

These caring words made the warrior smile. "And you, your highness?" He asked, hoping for a reassuring answer.

"Yes." the prince said and shifted his gaze towards the exit, "it is over. We have taken St. Emmanuel."

With these words, Daryun followed the gaze of the prince, who grapped the arm of his warrior which was lying on his shoulder and proceeded to stand up. Daryun bit his teeth together, as the sudden movement caused another spurt of dizziness to grap his mind and caused for the pain in his side to stir up again. After a few steps they tumbled and the prince looked at Daryun worringly.

"And so, under your highness' command we emerged victorious." Daryun said, trying to express how proud he was of his young master and distracting the young one from worring about the graveness of his injury at the same time.

After all, He survived until now. So he clearly wouldn't die now.

"Yes, thank you, Daryun" the prince said and took a moment to let the thought sink in that he really had won his first great battle.

For a moment they both just sat there but when Daryun's head threatened to sink onto his chest again, the prince immedialty got back up, jostling the wound some more which caused Daryun to groan quietly.

"Oh I'm sorry, Daryun. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment. We should get you to a doctor immediatly!" The prince exclaimed and glanced at his warrior with great worry as they made their way towards the exit and then the front gate. Daryun tried his best to take some weight of the prince but he grew tired quickly and there was some new sweat forming on his forehead from all the exertion. Just as he noticed that the prince had started swaying under his weight as well, he felt himself grabbed and lifted on the other side by some strong arms to which he could only groan in protest.

"Let me help you carry him, your highness." a voice next to his ear said and he managed to make out with his one open eye that the voice belonged to a soldier of theirs.

"Very well." The prince said and eyed both of them with a look of worry, "We have to take him to get treated for his wounds immediatly."

From afar Daryun heard the voices shouting for the young prince and he straightened himself up to take some weight from the young boy.

"I'm fine, your highness. Please do not worry about me. There are more important things now that require your attention." He said and tried not to distort his face in pain, when the young prince turned to look at him.

"Are you sure?" the prince asked and Daryun nodded in encouragement, causing the prince to finally acknowledge the soldiers that were standing beside them and waiting for him. He talked to them but Daryun was way more concentrated on keeping himself upright than to process what was said.

Only as he was moved again by the soldier on his other side, he looked up again and saw the prince touching his arm. "I will look for you later. I have something I have to deal with now." The young prince said, then he turned to look at the willing soldier, "Take him to the tents and make sure he gets a good treatment."

"Absolutely, your highness", he soldier said and as if encouraged by the words of the young lord, he proceeded forward, almost dragging Daryun with him who had trouble to adjust to the sudden movement which had sent another spurt of pain through his body. Even though, it was a lot of help having someone stronger to lean on, Daryun almost collapsed from exhaustion, pain and fatigue that all seemed to have catched up with him at that moment, when they got to the region where a village of tents had been established there temporary.

He let himself be helped into an empty tent and onto the ground where he closed his eyes in relief for moment.

To be contined...


End file.
